


you were the song stuck in my head

by Agent C (arh581958)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cute!meeting, First Meeting, M/M, Music Festival, coachella, singer!Clint, superfan!Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Agent%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil is just about to go to college. Before he does, he does to the Coachella Music and Arts Festival and gets a close encounter with one of the lead singers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you were the song stuck in my head

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Favorite Record" by FallOutBoy
> 
> I was writing a backstory!fic when this song suddenly played on the radio. Then, I couldn't get it out of my head.  
> This is the result of that. Written in an hour on yellow pad because I am old school rock like that. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine. Feel free to point them out.

                                                                       

 

They finally made it; it took them two days, seven-ish states, and lots of gas station donuts, but they finally arrived. One of Phil's bestfriends, Jasper, had literally dragged him across America to go see the music festival which he hasn't stopped talking about for months. God, how had Phil survived the final exams with Jasper constantly being in his ear all the time? Phil, being the good friend that he was and wanting to burn off a few pre-law school jitters while waiting for the LSAT results, let him. As it was, they were at the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. The sun was beginning to set when they finally settled in. Phil had insisted on getting a good parking spot seeing as they were going to be living off their trunk for the better part of the next three days.

The biggest dome was packed full of people by the time they entered. It was supposed to be a lull period in the events given than nearly half of the festival's on-seers were scoffing down their foodtruck dinners like it was manna from heaven. The upcoming set was from a lesser known group of individuals. Phil could easily tell they were fresh talent and were on the steady rise seeing as many people began filing in the moment they were announced. He just couldn't make out their name from all the crowd's cheering. He liked the new ones the most because they were unhampered by producers and music labels. Most of them just wanted to sing for the art of it. He didn't really want to go into all the legal-crap---at least, not yet.

The lights dimmed for a momentary pause while the crew fixed the stage and replaced the equipment for the next band. The announcer was saying something on stage and getting the crowd pumped up with so much energy that they could fuel a rocket launch. Phil took the time to revel in the mind-numbing noise that engulfed the concert hall. It washed over him like tides; wave after wave of pure energy bouncing of the sea of people. He found himself squished to toward the side by a group of rich-looking women with bouncer-like bodyguards. He shrugged it off and found a spot where he wasn't blocked by the statuesque men. It was the only place where he could see enough of the stage and be relatively far away from the gigantic speakers that he wouldn't risk any permanent damage to his ear drums.

Suddenly, the room was captured by a deep and powerful voice singing softly into the solitary microphone on the center of the stage as if the singer was making love it. Phil, much like the rest of the crowd, was entranced. An awe-struck silence enveloped the room like an angel had swooped in and stayed there. Then, it was nothing but the lead singer's voice echoing through the hall while singing the first few lines of the song. It was slow and malevolent and Phil could _feel_ the thrum of anticipation rising through the air. It felt like watching a soap bubble inflate and waiting for it to explode.

The flood gates opened and instrumentals cut through the deafening silence like knife. Lights exploded from background, outlining the vocalist in purple celestial light. It was too bright. From his angle, Phil could barely see the man's features and, in the darkness, all he could see was a curtain of shadows hiding the man's face. It was hell and it was perfect. For thirty glorious minutes, Phil listened to his heart's content.

When it was over, Phil lost himself in a flurry of music and booze. He expected the large-scale rave-like aura of the festival but was not prepared for the copious amounts of alcohol and contraband weed making its way through the party-goers. The smell of smoke made him light-headed and the stomach full of booze made him want to hurl. It was at that moment that another guy chose to walk directly into him at full-force. They stumbled back and fell, the guy landing on top of him. Phil was momentarily scared of dying a sad tragic death by being stepped on but then he remember that he was already outside the dome.

"Shit! Sorry man!" The guy mumbled, pushing off Clint's chest. "I really, really, didn't see you." The fall had caused the guy's hood to fall over his head and framed his rounded face in darkness. It did, however, reveal the shape contrast between the guy's pale skin and the dark-purple bruise covering one of his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Phil asked, reaching up because realizing it. His fingers brushed across the guy's cheek and gently stroking skin beneath the man's eyes. The other man flinched. Phil retracted his hand back as if the touch burned. "You've got a---"

"It's okay. I'm okay. I--I've got to go." the other boy said hurriedly without bothering to let him finish. He looked around nervously as he got up and ran away again like he was being chased.

Phil groaned and stood up after the ringing in his ears finally stopped. His shoes stepped on something with a sickening crack. He winced and looked down. Beneath his mud-caked shoes were a pair of white-framed shades. He reached for it in a haze. It was broken in half. "Hey wait! You forgo your--!" he tried to yell but it was too late; the guy had already disappeared into the mass of bodies. He groaned and clutched his head from the pounding headache.

He trudged back all the way back to the parking lot and fumbled the car doors open. He flopped into the backseat with a visceral moan escaping his lips. Jasper had at least gotten some sleep over the last leg of the drive but he hadn't so call him a wet blanket or whatever. He was out like a light the moment his back hit the cushions. He didn't even bother locking the door. Everything else was a distance memory.

It wasn't until morning when he realized that he never got the first act's official name. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He was just about to go find a program line-up or something which would tell him the band's name when he felt something sharp start poking him in the ribs. He curled his hand around to the side where the pain was coming from and reached inside. He pulled out a broken set of frames. He wanted to curse the sunlight for being so bright.

Five minutes of blinking away the sun splotches behind his eyelids later, he finally was able to read the inscription on the sides: Hawkeye. Realization hit him like a bucket of ice cold water in the scorching summer sun, stronger than a freight train doing downhill with no breaks. It was like a punch to the gut. The man he bumped into last night was Hawkeye's lead singer and, for the love of all things good and everything that is holy, he could not remember the man's face. Aww, Phil, no.

They never make it to the third day of Coachella because Jasper was puking seven ways to Sunday by afternoon of the following day. Phil, like the responsible adult that he was, drove him to the nearest hospital and, like the scared almost law school student that he was, called Mr. Sitwell over the phone and explained everything. He took the first wave of heated scolding from both their parents and a full week of the cold shoulder treatment from disappointed mother. But it was all okay; his best friend was safe and it was the best summer of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted an AU!College/University story. Coachella was all over my feed for the better half of two weeks and when FOB started playing their song, I knew what story I was going to write about. Tadaaah~
> 
> Unlike my other stories, this one is less dialogue and more narration. Tell me what you think about it? I'm experimenting with styles and feedback will be appreciated.
> 
> PS. First time I made coverart! Huhu. I know it sucks but I tried. Tell me if it's too ugly and I can remove it from the story. Haha.
> 
> [ **Got a prompt?** ](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/)


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